(This is a thread from Mizahar's fantasy roleplay forum. Why don't you register today? This message is not shown when you are logged in. Come roleplay with us, it's fun!)

Built into the cliffs overlooking the Suvan Sea, Riverfall resides on the edge of grasslands of Cyphrus where the Bluevein River plunges off the plain and cascades down to the inland sea below. Home of the Akalak, Riverfall is a self-supporting city populated by devoted warriors. [Riverfall Codex]

As far as Fallon was concerned, she had chosen to use the Blue Bull at the opportune time. It had quickly reached her ears that the place was most suitable for the alcohol driven, a place of quick indulgence and carousing in whatever form it took. During the day however, it was notably quieter. Cheap food was available, drinks could flow, and the noise was nothing more than a pleasant background hum. It was, as far as she was concerned, the perfect place for her to conduct her business. While her paperwork was stuck within the officials of Riverfall, Fallon made her own moves. She had managed to pry a list of names of the more mercenary inclined members of the city, cross referencing them based on client interaction to reduce the numbers down to a few. All that was left now was for the few who did catch her interest to respond. She had taken the more formal approach, issuing out lettered invitations to her targets under the prospect of making contacts for future work.

Not that any of them seemed to have yet to respond.

She did not dwell upon that thought for too long however. It allowed her time to think and gather her thoughts. Notebook open before her, ink and quill prepped for writing. There was a tankard of ale primed and ready, coin pouch at her belt with some change in it – she did not lug the majority of her coin about, that would have been foolish. She had taken to the side area, a table by one of the windows with a chair opposite her in waiting. The salty air of the Suvan flowed in through the opening, leaving her feeling relatively cool. She shifted in her seat, glad she had chosen to wear the lighter layers of the sleeveless tunic, though the kukri and its belt continued to be an uncomfortable weight. Her hands in her gloves however remained uncomfortable, but that was a necessary security. Lingering between the salt she could smell the faint scent of food, lunch was being made and would quickly be the meal of the day. Fish she reasoned with the sharp smell mixed with lemon. She would find out soon enough.

Her fingers patterned against the table top, before slinking over to the drink to take a swig. Bitter, but cool. She would have to pace herself to ensure it did not go to her head too quickly. Upon the other side she could see the few bar staff moving about, plates in hand, the clatter of crockery cutting through the background noise. The majority were Akalak, talking in their native tongue – something alien upon her ears. In time she would at least attempt to pick it up, but for now her priorities laid with making contacts.

Fallon is a Master of Intimidation, "At this level, a Master intimidator often unconsciously intimidates their target unless the intimidator monitors their stance, tone, and actions to prevent this. Master intimidators will nearly always have a reputation that precedes them unless they have taken special care to prevent it."

The Blue Bull, it wasn’t his first time here he had to admit. In fact, he had been to many taverns since he first came to Riverfall. He leaned towards the more notorious or seedier locals because they simply reminded him of home, he had to admit. Though the Blue Bull was quite a ways different than the ratty, worn down Sunberth establishments. He scratched his arm a bit, decked out in ‘business attire’ which was simply his usual attire with the addition of his axe and archery apparel.

In fact, his attire screamed plain and boring, cheap and replaceable which either meant he was a practical sort or didn’t have much on him. If it weren’t for his weaponry, he would have been easily passed over with his messy dark hair and facial growth that hasn’t met a razor in a while. It aged him somewhat alongside the creases of stress one could spot upon his brow and around his eyes.

Work hadn’t been an easy come-by for him so far. Mercs weren’t a high-demand in the city and should’ve expected that really ‘ When youz got yourselfs thousands of folk knowin’ how to fight, who’d need a hired fist much?’ Came the bitter thoughts, back in Sunberth someone would’ve just shouted the word and get about a dozen folk willing to be thugs.

Pushing the door open, he quietly stepped inside to be greeted by quiet. Not surprising but definitely a difference than the last he’d been here… which may have to do with the fact last he was here it was night and more Akalak’s were off whatever they normally do. He sighed mentally, making his way and giving a polite nod of greeting to whomever he’d made eye contact with as he searched for the letter sender.

Which was a weird thing to him, a merciful gods send but the way, but weird that instead of the usual ways folks used to get his notice this one was letter. A letter written in a very nice style that he could bare understand, It had details that seemed clear enough but still left him feeling confused. Hence as to why he was here, looking for the letter sender.

And that’s when he saw the person, pale skin, wild lookin’ hair, not tall but not particularly short he thought. Holdin’ a quill in hand, over a book with a tankard near her. He approached respectfully, having to do an activity that he wasn’t quite used to as he spoke.

“ ‘Scuse me, miss. You the one with the letter?” He said, his word emphasis odd and a bit out of practice but clear with the sunberthian accent, pulling out the aforementioned scrap from his pockets and raising it out in display.

The accent was unmistakable. The rougher tones, the lingering emphasis upon harsher characters. Fallon took a long sip from her tankard, letting the content roll down her threat again before lowering. The orbs swivelled over him, picking out the details and locking them away in memory.

Taller end of the scale. Dark hair. Seemingly unkept, lacking pride in appearance? Dressed practically to minimise loss expenses. Has the letter, likes a record? Finger nails… notably kept trimmed and kept. Would pair up with the bow. Suggests a practitioner of archery over-”That would be correct,” she let her lilting accent roll, the faint twang of a Sunbertian echoing in the background, ”You must be…” she paused, pursing her lips with thought, ”Gilli.”Her hand gestured for him to take the seat opposite her, but her attention had turned to the bar keep, ”Oi. Keep. Get the gent a drink. Put it on my tab. Oh, and get the lunch over? Ta much!”

She had leaned back in her chair then, brow raised as the contemplated the rest of him, Far from home. Probably finding it hard to get work. Contacts are good, they help the coin flow between various bodies. Make the city work in a different kind of machine.”As you have probably realised, I am Fallon Skylar and writer of the letter in question. You are thus far the first to respond to this,” her hand gave a flick down to the letter, ”And indeed. Contracts. Or potential contracts at least. I have a tendency to find that mercenaries are somewhat… more flexible that others who work with arms.” She offered a smile, a brief flash of teeth before she adopted a more business orientate roll. This was different than simply being an investigator, this was her having to put on a sales pitch and snatch the interest.

”Of course, as you're probably aware Riverfall is considerably drier in comparison to other cities. Sunberth for example. Which is why given what little I have managed to garner you may be a subject of interest,” there was a clunk of another drink being placed upon the table by the Akalak, a brief, curious glance sweeping between the two. Fallon’s eyes glanced up to him, a small tilt of the head, ”Bull, was it? Just some light business. I promise we will behave…”“Sure you will… food will be in half a bell or so.”

She watched the Akalak stalk away, before returning her attention back to Gilli, ”There will be times when I will require assistance. Though I plan to have a business – gods be willing – the issue may lie alongside with additional protection. Or, should clients require additional security… well. I could recommend yourself. Do I still hold your interest, Gilli?” Her hands clapped together, ”But enough of that. What can you offer? Particular skill sets or preferences? Any qualms with particular practices? I would much rather have the job fit so to speak.”

Fallon is a Master of Intimidation, "At this level, a Master intimidator often unconsciously intimidates their target unless the intimidator monitors their stance, tone, and actions to prevent this. Master intimidators will nearly always have a reputation that precedes them unless they have taken special care to prevent it."

He mentally breathed relief, lowering the hand with the letter. Nodding his acknowledgement he took a seat after setting aside his composite long bow, the unstrung twisting mass leaning against the table. while she sounded out to the barkeep for well… more drink, and for him which gave him more reason to behave. Not that required much, behaving he meant. Plus there was food! Free food was always good, even if it tasted sole of his boots though he doubted it would taste like that here.

Actually it smelled quite good which made his stomach rumble lightly. He hardly paid notice to her accent meanwhile, finding it familiar which made him unconsciously relax. Whether the girl realized it or not he was slowly lulled into security, something he’s missed for a while to be sure.

Then she began talking stock, speaking words that pretty much matched the way she worded her letters and he found himself feeling slightly more awkward. He was getting the gist but he was no painfully aware the she was probably way smarter than him.

He returned her smile, lightly and more a hesitant turning of the lips. He thought it a massive understatement when she mentioned the merc business here was drier than elsewhere, a glint of humor in his eyes as the corner of his lips went higher this time. When the table shook lightly with a clunk of a mug hitting surface and the drink I it sloshing lightly about, he turned his gaze with hers to meet the curious gaze of the Akalak.

‘ Guess we is a bit odd, eh?’ He thought, shifting lightly. A strange unkept looking guy suddenly meeting up with a gal who looked a bit more proper, especially with how Riverfall looked out for the woman folk, would have definitely raised any number of brows. He was glad to see the back of him as Fallon reassured him away, letting out a light sigh and closed his eyes.

After that Fallon went back to spieling some more, he got the gist of it. Overall she was setting up contacts, finding out people she could use as an extra dagger an’ if not her than someone else who might need it. He nodded, shaking his head with a bit more vigor.

Then he felt awkward again as she asked him questions, that hand of hers picking up that writing feather. ‘ Shoulda known I’d be doin’ more talkin’. Kinda wish I could be throwin’ them thoughts out without movin’ mouths now’’ He thought bemusedly, scratching at his thigh awkwardly as he tried to find words for the answers.

With a breath, he started “I can be givin’ an axe or a bow, ma’am” He then paused a bit, trying to gather more words “I’m useful with both, ‘course people vouchin’ ain’t here so me word’ll have ta be doin’ less youz wantin’ a bit more proof” He paused again, lifting the mug to wet his lips and loosen’ it somewhat “ That said, I ain’t good without ‘em. Jobs I usually be takin’ has me huntin’ rats on two an’ four if ye get me drift. Otherwise I’m savvy with standin’ and watchin’ yer back if youz needin’ it.”

Finding more courage to speak, he surged forward “But uh, I don’t like hurtin’ none who don’t desrerve it.” Which was way easier in Sunberth “And jobs, well… if it ain’t breakin’ the rules here too bad I’m not mindin’ much. Could always be fightin’ it out” He smirked, referencing to the arena where the Akalaks seemed to solve most of their quarrels.

The sun was high in the sky when Soikka slipped quietly into the tavern, his long dagger a comforting weight at his side. While he had entered The Blue Bull quite a number of times before they were all nighttime visits, fueled by the promise of good company and booze. Without the filter of alcohol the tavern seemed almost muted in comparison, lacking the usual edge. It was an odd change, but not entirely unwelcome -- the room was somewhat uncongested, making it easier to look around.

The reason why Soikka had come to the seedy tavern -- mid-afternoon, no less -- lay in the letter he carried in his pocket, neatly written and signed off by an unknown writer. Its contents were, if at all possible, even more perplexing than the mystery of the unfamiliar sender; though his reading was a bit rusty, Soikka had managed to decipher the clear invitation contained within. He was suspicious at first, as any sane man would be given his circumstances -- he did make his living scamming the odd passerby unfortunate enough to come across him, after all. Nonetheless, Soikka supposed the local government would not be kind enough to send him a letter in advance if he were to be apprehended and sentenced to potentially fight to the death.

A charming custom, if you ask him.

The youth had eventually decided to show up at the enclosed location, The Blue Bull, enticed by the promise of potential work in the future. While Soikka was able to pull in mizas with his trusty deck of tarot cards and his silver tongue, it was just enough for him to scrape by -- even back in Ravok it was more of a side hustle than anything, as he hadn’t needed to worry about cumbersome fees such as living expenses. If the letter spoke true about establishing a few contacts, well, who was he to deny the possibility of extra coin every now and then?

Though he had come via a formal invitation, he hadn't made much of an effort to dress up for the occasion; he stuck to his usual plain gray attire, purposefully left inconspicuous and simple -- just the way he liked it. His equally gray eyes flitted across the interior, scanning the room for the sender of the letter. The blue-skinned natives dominated the population inside, though Soikka seriously doubted one of them would be the person he was looking for. To the side, however, he could make out two figures who seemed to fit the bill; a dark-haired man accompanied a slim woman at a table near the back, both evidently armed and, if they were here for the same reason as he, dangerous.

Just the type of people he was looking for.

Without further hesitation Soikka drew closer, mentally taking inventory of their weaponry as he brazenly made his approach. “Looks like I’m late to the party,” he commented good-naturedly once close enough, an impish grin creeping onto his face as he pulled out the now-creased letter from his pocket. “Is one of you the sender of this letter or am I just making a total fool of myself?”

The quill scratched across the page, quick notes upon the individual before her. He had enough intelligence in him to not brag, even highlighting that he would have to rely on word for the moment. Though beneath all that there was the smallest, subtle declaration that he would prove himself if need be. A brief dip of the quill into the ink, a scrawling of the date in the corner, before she forced herself to pause. The page needed to dry, which allowed her to take a quick swig and contemplate her questions. She knew, obviously, what he meant by rats – Sunberth was full of them.

The bar door opened, but she did not pay it too much mind. Her attention was focused on Robinson for the moment.

”Four legs are faster, two legs are much more cunning…” she mused. The liquid was sloshed around within the tankard, eyes looking down into it before she continued, ”I take it you are familiar with the laws of Riverfall? Fear not, I do not like dragging individuals through more questionable activities that would interfere with the city.” Another smile, she watched the man begin to slip into his cups and relax. Obviously the baiting of alcohol and food paid off, ”As for your other point, I too have a tendency to avoid such. Would you therefore desire evidence of if the individual is deserving of… well, whatever it is, or would you prefer client confidentiality?”

He seemed to be a listener over a talker. Or more, only spoke when questions prodded and poked him to. His social skills made him awkward – Is that such a surprise considering Sunberth? -, but that could probably pass as the brooding type to most clients. Fingers, they seemed to want to fidget. Nervous energy perhaps? Her ears twitched to the approaching footsteps, eyes glancing sideways to steal a look of who it was. Male, human, young in comparison to her. She raised a finger, a quick motion to suggest silence for a moment. If anything it was to let Robinson answer her question before dealing with the new face.

A few passing ticks, she allowed her attention to sink upon him properly this time.

Pretty boy, was the first thing that came to mind. There was a small raise of a single brow, Taller than me. Scrawny. Looks as if he needs a good meal or two. Guessing still growing. Definitely not an adult. Got a few scars however. Probably from childhood scraps. Her gaze slid to the letter then, a brief flicker of recognition to her hand writing before she gave a smile.

”My, another. Come, sit. Opposite. You must be…” her tongue clicked as she worked through the list of names in her head, ”Well. Not Gunther. I saw him. He was an Ox. Ss… yes. Soi… Kay?” it was an unusual sounding name, she remembered that much. But in this instance she was looking to see if the boy would fill her in on the details. Once more she leaned in the direction of the barkeep with a p, ”Bull! Can you for the kid? Same again, ta much!”

For the meanwhile she would let them both believe she was nothing more than a face with words. It was for the better that way, allowed the quiet placing of strings and connections between them. Leaning back in her chair, Fallon steepled her fingers, ”How kind of you to appear. As you may have guessed, yes I am indeed the write of said letter. One Fallon Skylar, at your service. In principle at least, practice has yet to occur properly due to paper matters.” Her hand turned to Robinson to introduce himself, ”This gentleman here is rather much like yourself, finding his way and looking for ties. Ties are good. And ties form friendships. I could continue with such pleasantries, but we are not here for that. So…” she took up the quill once more, ”As we were discussing… ah yes, confidentiality. It goes both ways. Any preference to being an unknown or are you comfortable with your names being used freely?”

Fallon is a Master of Intimidation, "At this level, a Master intimidator often unconsciously intimidates their target unless the intimidator monitors their stance, tone, and actions to prevent this. Master intimidators will nearly always have a reputation that precedes them unless they have taken special care to prevent it."

As he spoke, she wrote. For the moment it seemed that the only other sound was the scratching of the quill upon the pages, her writings words that were no doubt about him as she asked her questions. She wrote fast, he noted. If she came here like he did she must’ve finished up at that citizen thing faster than he did by a longshot.

He smirked again at her words ‘ That they is, two-legged bastards’ . Though there was one thing about hunting two-legged rats in their dens, often enough the other rats give him up for a slice. Other times, the more of them there were the dumber they got. He nodded at the question about the laws, it was the first thing they shoved at you in those newcomer scrolls along with places of interest for visitors and potential residents.

With another sip of his drink, he pondered slightly as he seemed to look at nothing for moment even as fresh footsteps rang in the background “I…” He began, smacking his lips as if reaching for traces of the drink on his tongue “…Be wantin’ a reason, that evidence, I’m supposin’…” It felt better to him, while there were moral attachments it was more at to be sure the client was on the up and up as it were, trust was a big thing for him “Finer ta know than not” He confirmed.

He then followed her gaze to the new feller, a tall one too by the looks of it and still some room to grow ‘ Bigger’ an’ me if gets the right meat’ And talking about meat it seemed he had lass of it on his bones than he should. The youngin’ spoke words and held a letter much like the one Robin had but if that made him a merc he wasn’t sure. If he were honest the lad looked like he couldn’t slap a pillow without it overpowering him the next.

Then Fallon spoke her words, fluent an’ fancy like with a friendly smile. Ordering another meal for the table and placing this kids name as 'Soika', which sounded odd but then again who was he to talk? Her way kind of reminded him of the cheats back at the old markets except there was a bit more sincerity on her face that made the oily faces of those bastards rank amatures.

The bit about forming ties was true enough, he needed though he wondered if he could find ties with a thin stick of a lad useful? But who was he to know? If this Fallon saw him as a potential so be it, no skin off his back.

Tapping his leg, he thought a bit some more before answering about the confidentiality bit. Oh he already had his answer of course, just the words….

“I ain’t mindin’ me name thrown about…” If he kept it quiet then he felt it meant he wasn’t an open sort, which attracted similar sorts who didn’t want to be open. Granted, those sorts could be a lucrative type but well, if one ain’t open about their intents than it likely meant what they got could be a bit deal more nasty than he reckoned.

Plus he could always use the advertisement.

He nodded then, as if it was a good idea and informing her he was certain about it.

The sender of the letter had a quick tongue, her strangely-accented words flowing from her mouth without hesitation; the dark-haired stranger, on the other hand, seemed like a man of few words, his speech rough in comparison. She greeted him with a smile, stumbling a bit through his name but, he supposed, that was to be expected. “'S pronounced ‘Soy-kah’, miss, but I won’t get wrung up over it if you call me otherwise.”He spoke cheerfully, pulling a chair from the adjacent table and settling down to the left of the dark-haired man as he talked. The youth watched in mild amusement as she shouted out for another order and shot Bull a grin as he passed by. She was a strange one, all right -- Soikka couldn’t recall the last time someone had bought him a hot meal without expecting one in return.

He could feel the assessing stare of the other stranger on him as he sat, though that was to be expected -- the con-man would have found it strange if the other invitees harbored no suspicion towards him. Soikka tilted his head slightly as he examined the other recipient of the letter in turn, not bothering to be discreet in his appraisal. He was tall, stony-eyed, well built -- much more suitable for mercenary work in that regard. If it was contacts the woman was looking for he would be an obvious choice, but then again, Soikka supposed that he was called here for a reason as well. There was really nothing too impressive about his own appearance, he agreed, but his talents lay in skills not as easily observed.

The woman -- Fallon, was it? -- briefly introduced the other, quickly giving him a run-down before cutting to the chase and continuing where she had left off before he’d arrived. Any preference to being an unknown or are you comfortable with your names being used freely? Soikka mulled over her question for a moment, weighing the odds carefully in his mind. While it wouldn’t be good if his past “customers” were to catch an earful, he had always made it a point to cover his tracks; even if they managed to get his name, it would mean nothing without a body. Besides, the name he went by now was an alias -- he found no reason why he couldn’t just shed it again if things went south.

Soikka dipped his head, nodding slightly as if to confirm his decision.“Go wild, I don't mind.” he replied simply, drumming his fingers silently on the table. He was here to make connections, after all, and a nameless, faceless contact wouldn’t make much of an ally.

"Excellent to know, Gilli," Another flash of teeth in a smile. A quick tap of the quill, she scrawled down a collection of notes - one beneath the heading of Robinson Gilli before turning to the opposite page to jot down Soikka. Beyond that there was a few additional notes while the man seemed to process her question. It was an important one, it established some boundaries and would allow things to not turn ugly later. An argument or disagreement during an inopportune moment could prove to be damning - fatal even if in the worse of circumstance. To prevent it now through clever forethought was never something to brush aside. She gave a small nod, before her gaze turned to Soikka.

"Soy-kah, my apologies. Names are not always my... forte," he had pulled up a chair by the time Fallon's attention had truly turned back to him, following her lead but remaining relatively quiet. The mind ticked around the possibilities, no doubt the three of them were weighing each other up - assessing and reading the situation. Were these friends or were they foes? Could they be trusted or not? It was the thoughts she would be thinking if such an occasion presented itself.

The same would be no doubt for Robinson. Along with how can this be used to my advantage? How can I use this to achieve some form of ends? At least... well. Basing on Sunberth logic. The boy however... She could not place his accent, and that provided some mild frustration. Not 'Berther, the fact the words were far from the rough broken state of Robinson suggested a slightly more educated upbringing. Her quill tapped in thought, before scrawling down his words.

"Also good to know," she gave a smirk, an attempt to disarm. Another tankard clunked down upon the table, "I will be sure to use both of your names in good terms." Lowering the quill she flexed her writing hand. Fingers flexed in their gloves, a brief uncomfortable tensing of the muscles in the palm. She rubbed at it with the other as she continued, "Now, as I was discussing with this good sir before your arrival the looking into potential contracts. Obviously within any agreed upon terms, declarations of particular qualms or things you would much rather avoid. And of course if you have a more preferred skill set that you would much rather use. I spy a dagger there, but I do not wish to make too many presumptions on character," she opened her hands in gesture to him, "So, all parties here are aware for the flow of information, what can you offer? All in the name of having a fitting job..."

"Oh, Gilli, do pay attention. Knowing others who are linked will be most... helpful. Perhaps if particular skill sets align in such a way, well, you could both perhaps, align yourselves in a joint effort in the future," she offered the thought between them, letting it sink in before continuing, "And now, gentlemen, I let you take the floor. Ask your questions while I gather up more of my own."

Fallon is a Master of Intimidation, "At this level, a Master intimidator often unconsciously intimidates their target unless the intimidator monitors their stance, tone, and actions to prevent this. Master intimidators will nearly always have a reputation that precedes them unless they have taken special care to prevent it."

He tapped at his thigh again, letting the words sink in. The boy talked nice, this Soikka, who was nothing but a rag. He couldn’t place the accent, then again in his world it was either ‘Sunberth’ or ‘Not Sunberth’ when common was spoken. Same thing whenever he heard Fratava being spoken by a svefra and anyone else, the twang of outsiders if he had a name for it

And as he heard Miss Fallon speak some more he could now note that she had a familiar accent, it’s just that it hidden behind such fluency and smart words that it hid the ‘Berth buried deep innit. Did that make her of one of those who got out young? Or did she teach herself all she needed in the Berth? Was she someone born there in the first place or just brought in as a tyke?

He shook himself from those thoughts as she explained to the Soikka kid the things she told him just a few chimes ago. He then grunted his acknowledgement, she a had point and knowing what the kid could do might help in the future if they were indeed to work together in some fashion.

Taking a deeper drink this time, all in the name of loosening his lips and of course to give him a brief moment to think, he started out with his first.

“Whatsit you can do?” He jutted his chin at Soikka, tapping his lap again uncomfortably. He felt a redundant thing to ask, since Miss Fallon asked a similar with that fitting job thing she just mentioned. Thinking about this he then he turned to Fallon “ An’ uh, suppozin’ we’re uh ..sharin’ Miss Fallon, uh, the whole skillz align whatyousaid. Same thing asking you” he mumbled awkwardly.

Fidgeting slightly, he pointed to his unstrung composite long bow that rested against the table “See, me I can shoots far with this. Da taught me an’ such an’ same with me axe “ he then motioned to the battle axe that was snug in his belt.

“If ye wantin’ somethin’ far brought down, I can do it…” He mumbled some more “An’ close I can bring ‘em down too” And then he shrugged, as if that was the only positives too him. Suggesting he could handle up close and up far, a fighter through and through, but anywhere else he’d be useless.

If their skills were to truly align then it had to be something to offset his limited skill set.